


Domestics

by dreamscallouttome



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, something i wrote so many eons ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamscallouttome/pseuds/dreamscallouttome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Doctor finds himself settling down for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestics

He’s getting too comfortable. 

Ever since Trenzalore he’s had a bad habit he needs to get rid of. But unlike his usual habits, he was very aware of this one, and he liked it. It all started thanks to Vastra—damn her—she was better piloting the TARDIS than anyone else in the Paternoster Gang (which meant that she was the one who actually knew which buttons to press to get back to her home), and since he had passed out from the effort of having his life rewritten and carrying Clara out of his timeline Vastra was the one in charge. She had decided that the best thing was to keep them together, since she couldn’t find either of the rooms that belonged to them in the ship, she had done what he’d said and gone straight back to her own time period, where she decided that having them in the same room was easier. 

Seriously, what’s wrong with that lizard?

When The Doctor woke up he realised his long legs were tangled with Clara’s, her head was resting against his chest, a hand over his right heart. It took all the will in the world not to move but he managed it, she woke up later, with a confused expression and a blush creeping on her cheeks.  
‘Oi, down boy,’ she said with a little yawn.

Afterwards he took her to the Maitlands’ house, they kept their routine of only meeting on Wednesdays, but sometimes she would call to the TARDIS and talk to him, though most of the times it would have only been a few seconds since he’d dropped her off. 

They went on with their business, the kids got a new nanny, like their father had planned ever since the Doctor had first found Clara, and she got a new job at Coal Hill School (he didn’t help, and though she could not remember, he had the vague suspicion that she was attracted to the school because of his timeline), he even helped her move out.

‘So,’ he sighed, placing the last box on the counter. ‘New place. New start. New bed to jump on!’

Before she could react, he had already dashed to her bedroom and started jumping on the bed.

‘Doctor, stop that! I swear you’re even worse than Artie when he’s on a sugar high.’

‘Come on, Clara, you cannot be so grumpy.’

‘I cannot stand you jumping on my bed!’

He jumped off, only to grab her hands and oblige her to get on the bed with him. She did jump in the end.

It had been almost two months since Trenzalore for him, he had travelled straight to their meetings, feeling empty whenever Clara was not by his side, so it had been longer for her. She had a rule of no TARDIS in her already too small flat and climbing flight of stars had tired him. It was night, they were cuddled together on the couch, watching a movie in the small telly Clara had bought when she was in college.

‘I could always replace it with a newer model,’ he said with a yawn.

‘No, leave it as it is.’

They were both yawning. The activities of the day had killed whatever remaining energy he had. The Doctor might not need as much sleep as his human companions, but that did not mean that he didn’t need it at all, he only slept 8 hours in about a month or two, and his time was due.

She had some bottoms of a previous boyfriend stocked in one of the boxes, she hadn’t thrown it away because there might be some day that they were gonna be useful, so he used those as a pyjama, and one of her oversized hoodies as a top. They had no qualms when it came to sleeping next to each other.  
The Doctor laid on his side, drawing small circles (Gallifreyan) in Clara’s shoulder, where her cami didn’t cover.

‘Stop that,’ she muttered. Her speech was slurred, he liked that. 

He just hugged her closer.

‘You know, if you were some other bloke I wouldn’t be doing this…’ she said.

He was just too comfortable and he knew it.

Clara was not so calm and collected about it all. She was falling for him, and fast.


End file.
